It Started With Her Eyes
by cakefeels
Summary: He was used to seeing Clare's eyes alight with fury, and sometimes even amusement, but he had never seen her cry.


It Started With Her Eyes

He was eight years old and rambunctious to the point of destruction. There was a wasteland of broken toys tossed carelessly to the bottom of his toy chest and parts scattered throughout the house. It was really only a matter of time before one of her Barbie dolls fell victim to one of his wild rampages.

He hadn't meant to do it, really. The doll just wasn't as bendable as he had imagined and even materials meant for rough housing children hit their breaking point eventually. It broke in several places, one of which was the neck joint. It took all of thirty seconds for Jake to decide the vacant, unblinking eyes were kind of creepy when not attached to a human like body, so he had stowed the offending object away beneath his pillow with plans to dispose of it after Clare and her parents left. If he was lucky Clare would assume she had lost it during her play time, or if he was really lucky she would simply forget all about it and go home without a second thought for the auburn haired doll.

He was not lucky.

Clare came barging into his room, completely uninvited by the way, and started to ransack everything. Now, Jake wasn't a cleanly child, nor did he scoff at a good chance to make a mess, but this was his room and his mess was perfectly organized to his liking. He would rather give up his entire collection of remote controlled cars than admit that the way his GI Joe action figure had flown through the air when she tossed up the bed's cover was kind of cool.

"Hey!" He protested and drew his eyebrows up on his forehead until they were pinched together. "What's your deal?!' He tried again when she got too close to his pillow. She skipped the pillow however and his shoulders deflated with relief. She definitely wasn't as thorough in her search as his mother had been the week before when trying to find the source of the offensive odor emitting from Jake's room. She didn't bother to answer him, deciding it would be a much better idea to hop down from his bed so close to him their noses were almost touching.

"I know you have her!' Clare hollered as if he couldn't hear her from her place inches in front of him. He winced at the sound of her shrill, little girl voice and shrugged as if he had no idea what she was talking about while his heart threatened to beat out of his chest. If his parents found out he had broken Clare's doll he was in for it.

"What're you talking about?" he asked innocently.

Clare narrowed her eyes and poked his shoulder. "Aubrey," she said simply, as if he should know what she was talking about. "She was there when you came into the living room and now she's gone. You took her."

Jake was never very good at lying, but he gave it his best shot anyway.

"I didn't take your stupid doll, Clare." He said, just as the pillow that had been tossed around during her previous fit slid to the floor with a soft thump. He winced and braced himself for the scream that was sure to come as he watched her turn around, but it never came. She stood silently for a moment before reaching out gingerly and lifting the head of the doll from its place on the bed.

He watched as she ran her fingers over the once whole Aubrey's hair and walked around her slowly. She was crying. He instantly wished she had screamed instead.

Her big, azure eyes were filled to the brim with unshed tears as he lower lip trembled. His stomach hurt. He was used to seeing Clare's eyes alight with fury, and sometimes even amusement, but he had never seen her cry. It was one of the things that made her the only girl he could stand to be around and to play with on occasion. It was that much worse because he was the one to put those tears there. He regretted the decision to send Barbie on a dangerous mission with GI Joe instantly.

"She was my favorite." Clare said without taking her eyes off the head of her broken friend. "Her hair is almost like mine," she explained. "All the other Barbies have blonde hair." She sounded heart-broken, like his dad after another long night of fighting with his mom they both thought he couldn't hear. He was willing to do anything to make her feel better. He tugged at his lower lip and frowned, trying to think of what his dad did to make himself feel better when he was sad like Clare, but nothing came to mind except the alcohol pushed to the back of the fridge that Jake was absolutely not allowed to touch under any circumstances.

Jake then decided that he was looking at things the wrong way. His dad was a grown up and maybe grown ups didn't use the same things to cheer them up. Eventually he decided there was only one thing to do. He sighed and walked around Clare to his toy box. He started rummaging through it and soon she came over to join him.

"What are you doing?" She asked quietly, her voice still sounded sad and he felt like he might throw up.

"Here," he said, standing up and shoving something unceremoniously into her hands before fleeing his room.

Clare looked down, confused until it dawned on her exactly what the object she was holding was. It was Jake's favorite toy car, which wasn't really a toy at all, but a model of a car built far before he was born. His dad had helped him put together. It didn't take long for it to make its way from its place on the shelf to the bottom of his toy box, but he loved it. It was his prized possession and he had never let her touch it until today. It was the same light blue as her eyes and if she had asked him he might have admitted he had asked his dad for the specific color just for that reason. She smiled and rubbed her tears away with the heel of her hand.

He sighed with relief when she came back into the living room with no tears streaking down her face. He definitely didn't want to give up any more of his toys.


End file.
